Spacetime: the Novel
by EvilCheesecake
Summary: The novel to accompany a fanset about aliens that can travel between universes and their exploits in Dominaria.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Take us in, Captain."

The pristine sliver flagship turned towards the newly created Voidstream, an opening between two universes across several others. Although the majority was scattered through all of space and time, the fleet was still of impressive size.

"Scanning instruments indicate that the targeted universe is habitable – probably inhabited. There appears to be a massive source of energy located a few miles from the stream's edge; could be what we're looking for."

"Very good."

Forlorn General Taraan Goral gazed at the masses of empty space passing by the ship's ultraplastic windows. To think that the Crown could be so close, even after all the Forlorn had been through – some of which had been his doing.

As a species, they were highly advanced, far beyond the level of the Thran or even the dreaded Phyrexians. Their natural passion for artifice led them not to create weapons, for they knew that no other species on their mostly barren planet posed a threat, but to develop great devices, entire mechanised cities and lately a space fleet. The crowning achievement had come when Taraan himself had discovered the Spark, that which allowed travel between universes, lurking deep in his own heart.

For twenty years, Taraan had investigated ways of activating his spark, for even among those rare mortals who possess it, few are lucky enough to gain its full benefit. It fully activated during a future-trance in which Taraan saw the destruction of the Homeworld. The grief that came with seeing his entire species lost brought out the shining light and he resolved that he would use this new power to avert this catastrophe.

It turned out that the fleet that he had ordered to be constructed may have been the cause of the catastrophe.

Taraan became the leader of the Forlorn after he was able to demonstrate his planeswalking ability, bringing back new materials and technologies for them to use. He trusted a few of his most loyal rockmage bodyguards with the knowledge of his vision and began creating a grand space fleet that would allow the Forlorn to move into other universes. Taraan became the first mortal being to understand the nature of the Spark and he alone saw a way of recreating its planeswalking effects artificially. The collision of all five types of mana would set up harmonics in the layers of each universe and open a path between them. However, the only source of mana large enough for this purpose available to the Forlorn was in the heart of the Homeworld.

Taraan's advisors claimed that there was no risk of permanent damage to the structure of the Homeworld – once the path had been opened, the mana could be regenerated and returned to its heart. Even though he trusted them, Taraan knew that removing the mana from a world, even if only for a few moments, would have a weakening effect. When the generators were fired up on the Atora for the first time the resulting mana explosion had scattered the Forlorn, potentially across both time and parallel universes. Quick thinking by Taraan led to the rapidly dispersing mana being gathered and kept in the Atora's storage fields before it spread too thin.

If seeing his world destroyed had broken Taraan's heart, knowing he had caused it tortured his soul. Now that his people could be anywhere in several realities, Taraan resolved to gather them again and find some way of returning to the Homeworld. It was only with later probing that the Forlorn discovered that the universal resonance had caused every version of the Homeworld in all realities to shatter into atoms.

But all that was in the past and now Taraan may have found a way to repent.

Passing through the stream, the universe seemed to blur and then resolidify. Some of the stars appeared to move, as one universe became several different ones in quick succession. The fleet pulled out of the end in the universe that they were heading for, quickly returning to formation as the Voidstream closed behind them.

"What is the nature of the entity you picked up, Captain Dajora?"

"It appears to be a powerful green-mana source, General."

"That complicates things. I was hoping for the Crown, but clearly that is now impossible."

"I apologise, lord. It is giving off similar radiation. It could well have similar capabilities."

The Crown of the Homeworld was given to the Forlorn's elected leader, although only before they had to wander the universes. It allowed the wearer to move between universes and control time to a small extent. Taraan had little use for it so it had resided in a museum on the Homeworld; now he cursed himself for not keeping it near. It could maybe have allowed him to undo his mistakes and save his planet. Now his race was doomed to seek it eternally in parallel universes where it might have survived. Possessing it may just allow the creation of a replacement Homeworld with the mana left in the Atora's fields.

"Very well. Take us towards it, preferably with stealth."

*** * * * * * ***

For those who were close to nature, the signs of the Forlorn's approach were obvious. The harmonic movement of mana is bound to disturb creatures not so distended from the flow of life as humanoids. Druids everywhere noticed a simultaneous silence and unusual cloud formations appeared in several places. A subtle change in winds went largely unnoticed, even though the air was being drawn straight upwards.

The being most in contact with nature was Lurast, a treefolk considered legendary for his healing sap and wonderful flowers. He would have spread the news to his protectors but the very reason he needed them stopped him: he had barely moved in several hundred years and had not spoken in millennia. Age had stricken him immobile but not unfeeling, for he literally was as old as the hills.

Lurast had the honour of being the first true creation of Shaia, the Creator of All. In the moments after her creation was complete, she combined his young consciousness with her own and became inseparable from him.

His thoughts moving at a rate far exceeding his actions, Lurast shared his observations with Shaia. She calmed him with gentle thoughts. Surely, a goddess of creation could not be worried by mere mana movements? She made him aware that whatever was causing the problem would be dealt with.

Shaia herself began to probe the fleet that she saw approaching. These were not of her creation. Clearly, some sort of infernal artifice was involved; their ugly metal contraptions paled next to her creation's living beauty. She was aware of their devices in turn exploring her capabilities – hah! No upstart race of worldslayers could comprehend the force of a god.

At some point in the future, Shaia would have her followers confront these wanderers. But for now, the work that had to be continued for her own survival had to be done.

She cast her mind out to her disciple.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Heigan, Grand Cleric of the White Tree, woke at the break of dawn. If it was to be his mission to guard the Spirit of Nature, he made it his duty to be vigilant at every opportunity. He had been one of the greatest mental mages of the age when his consciousness had touched upon a mine of beauty he had ever expected to find.

Few can feel the presence of a god without becoming overawed, and even the exceptionally strong-willed Heigan was no exception. With his every thought laid bare to this supreme being, Heigan thought it wise to pledge his allegiance to it. The outcome was that this deity seemed to take this offer rather too literally. Heigan found insubstantial tendrils invading his mind, altering his very soul to suit the will of this being.

When this mental conditioning was over, Heigan staggered to his feet. He felt more powerful than before, his control extending over a far greater area than before and with a far more delicate touch. Unbidden, a new purpose entered his mind. He would seek out this astonishing power and discover its greatest secrets. He had felt a vulnerability in this great spirit – an inability to protect itself. He could offer it a grand garrison to guard it, especially with his enhanced mental projections.

After a decade of wandering, Heigan had been exhausted and stumbling through a great forest when a bountiful garden had appeared in his vision. He could spot the telltale signs of an illusion, the slight blurring at the edges of the garden that gave away its alien nature. Even so, he trusted in his new cause to guide him to it.

As he approached the grand vision, it solidified. Cresting the brow of a hill, Heigan was dimly aware that he had reached the edge of the forest when the valley below seemed to explode with light. Heigan knew he had found what he was looking for.

Reaching out with his mind, he found the familiar presence that had eluded him for so long. Again, he felt the tendrils enter his mind, although this felt more like an inspection than another alteration. The presence of this god surrounded him, and he relinquished.

_Welcome to the Garden of the White Tree, Heigan. For a long time we have expected you._

On closer inspection, Heigan saw a large white oak that spread its boughs across the entire garden.

_This was my greatest creation, Lurast. He was supposed to embody all of the virtues that I had placed in you – nobility, honour, justice and courage. But that was to be my, and his, downfall, for I made him too perfect. Instead of being the avatar that inspired all of my peoples, he instead chose to seek only internal truth. He settled here millennia ago, meditating. And I, I could not be seperated from such a being of beauty, and I infused my being into him. Together we have planned for this age, where great deeds shall be done by those who would not foresee them._

Heigan began to rise from his knees and felt a wave of pressure applied to his shoulders by an unseen force.

_I am Shaia, Mother of All and the creator of this world. You shall love me as you fear my might. And it is your duty, Heigan of the White Tree, to guard my earthly body until I am reborn._

At that instant, Heigan's mind exploded with ecstasy. A vision of a gigantic, sweeping entity spreading across the world appeared in front of his eyes, not an illusion but a vision of ages past. Each patch of barren earth that was touched by the many arms of this being that could only be Shaia sprang up with lush growth and animal life. The vision of Shaia's Creation lasted for several minutes and left Heigan dazed but with his purpose realised: he would deliver to Shaia an army that could repel any threat.

Seventeen years of devotion had only brought him closer to Lurast and Shaia. After several centuries of life, most spent in the Garden itself, Lurast's bark was damaged and worn in several places. He needed constant care and still bore the wounds from occasional battles that had so invoked his just anger that no being could separate him from them.

Offering healing to those who would need it had proved to be a great success for Heigan's cause. It was remarkably easy to influence unconscious minds, particularly when subjects were in a deep healing trance. Planted thoughts often surfaced when the patient awoke, suddenly with an unexpected desire to serve the White Tree. Very few subjects proved resistant to this method.

_Heigan._

His morning rituals interrupted, Heigan opened his mental channel to Shaia.

_Yes, my Lady._

_It would appear that your day has finally fallen upon us. A great threat is approaching._

_How may I best serve your whims?_

_Continue as before, but be prepared for an attack. This particular threat could approach suddenly. I would suggest increased battle training and patient mind-skimming._

_As you wish._

Heigan had worked for Shaia far too long for all of this to be wasted. He did not begrudge this use of his time, but he had been given far too much by the Mother of All for him to risk losing, were her position to become compromised by these invaders.

He completed his preparations for the day and left his chambers. Moving to the balcony, he found the ranks of his followers spread in the courtyard below. Bolstering his speech with telepathic waves, he addressed them.

"Another day dawns, and we are grateful for it. Give thanks to our Great Mother."

"We give thanks."

"All of you are aware that great things are afoot in this Garden. The cultivation of our healing crop must continue. However, there is also a need for readiness. I require the service of ten mage volunteers, to present themselves to my chambers after the midday meal. Normal duties will continue in the afternoon.

"The detail of horticultists that have been notified, stay where you are. All others, you know what must be done. We give thanks."

"We give thanks."

Moving towards the staircase, Heigan proceeded down. The horticultists gathered round. Heigan moved into full mental channelling.

_This task that I have bestowed upon you is of the greatest need we have faced. The White Tree will be making his final stand soon; I am sure that you can all feel it pressing on your minds. It is vital that this vessel for venerable Lurast's rebirth is ready. How is the Bloom coming along?_

_Your Holiness, we have satisfied its every whim. It must be the happiest being we have ever bred._

_Good, Hannah. Detronus?_

_Lurast's body is already emitting battle sap. He can clearly sense a threat. What does the Great Mother think?_

_She has warned us to be vigilant. Radel, I want every potential mage in our populace able to defend themselves. Those with previous magical experience I will deal with myself. Ladies and gentlemen, you know what must be done._

_Yes, Grand Cleric._

Heigan closed his mind, ignoring all contact. Whatever this threat was, it had unsettled a god and shocked a millennia-old tree into action. He needed to do some serious thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

With the deftest of steps, the silent hunter moved through the light undergrowth making little sound. Closing in on its prey, the creature stiffened into an attacking stance. There was no hope of escape for this catch.

Giving no warning, the hunter dived on its target and enveloped it in a full body-grip.

"No escape for sparklies like you when Troff is on the hunt!"

Clutching his prized new possession to his chest, Troff began the short run back to the Scarslope warrens. Auntie Korg would be pleased with this find, an incredibly glowy rock. The pretty colours enthralled him as he ran.

A pricking of the hairs on the back of the young goblin's neck brought Troff to a standstill. He felt as if a great force was holding him still, turning him from predator to prey. Almost as if he believed it would save him, Troff cast the sparkly back into the hedgerows where it had lain. Whimpering slightly, he gazed over his shoulder and went head over heels as his feet slipped out from under him.

In the sky was the greatest hoard of glittery rocks to ever grace the Scarslope cliffs.

The flashing lights and skittering reflections of the Forlorn battle fleet held Troff captive without any sort of device. Completely overwhelmed by this army of glittery-floaty-things, the goblin began to recount every act of petty theft and mischief that had made up his short life. The Sparkly Kings had come to exact their judgement.

"O Great Glitteries, spare my pitiful hide! Grink made me take the blueberry pie! Twist his innards inside out instead, wise Shinies!"

His grimy hair scraping the dirt at his feet, Troff bent double to avoid the glare of the closest ships. He averted his gaze out of fear and failed to spot the four foot-soldiers approaching him.

"Cut the pathetic bleating, underbeing. Are you aware of a large green-mana source nearby?"

"...I tried to take it out of the soup but it fell back in, wise ones! Please..."

"Clearly we are wasting our time here. Dispose of this thing, Sergeant."

Another of the grey-skinned humanoids stepped forward, brandishing a cutlass of brilliant light. With a well-practiced movement, the Forlorn soldier burst open the ribcage of the pathetic lifeform in front of him. Troff's final few protestations became muffled as his vital organs began to slide out of his chest. None of the Forlorn paid him any attention.

"These rats must all be as stupid as this one. Contact the General. I want a little pest-control work done here."

As some of the fleet began to set down to deal with the warrens, Auntie Korg was already screaming orders in her frighteningly shrill voice. Korg was willing to let many things happen to her proud tribe of boggarts, but having witnessed the brutality they had already showed to foraging parties, she knew that this would not stand. These odd, funny-coloured people may have the technological upper hand, but they were about to be taught a lesson in goblin military theory. Either way, it was a lesson they would not forget.

"Brogg, get that tar up on the slopes. I don't care who's fallen in there; it's not my fault. Gerno, Frann, those regiments had better be the pride of these slopes or you'll be wishing you were dungbugs. These tin-can people think we're animals. Well, let's show them a good squishing! Charge!"

Pouring out of the slopes came several hundred goblins, some waving pointy sticks and axes, others with Korg's famous flameball capsules. If the Forlorn were expecting an easy job, they had another thing coming.

Suddenly, a massive tremor rocked the nearby area. A wave of energy fell upon the slopes and several goblins found their warren-mates had vanished. The Forlorn had decided to resort to their planar disruptors, relocating each atom of the boggarts' bodies to a separate universe.

A wave of goblins poured out of their caves. They got within a few hundred metres of the Forlorn front line when their numbers were cut in half by a volley of laser blasts. Those that did make it through were able to take out a few Forlorn with their flameball blasts. There were casualties on both sides but each force was still formidable.

Having almost expected this to happen, the Forlorn took this opportunity to unleash large missiles at the higher levels of the warrens. Carefully aimed explosive charges brought about half of the Scarslope Ridge crashing down, quickly producing a rockslide that caught many goblins in its path. Squeals and screams filled the air.

Korg could see that this campaign was going to be a short one for the goblins unless they managed to find some way of removing the Forlorn's massive technological advantage. Although they still had light weapons, drawing infantry units deep into the caves where they could be piled upon seemed like the best strategy. She turned to one of her second-in-commands.

"Sound the horns. Full retreat."

"Are you sure, Auntie? If we can create a wall of corpses..."

"Forget it, I'll blow them myself."

Several of the goblins simply became even more disorientated as the horns began to echo through the valley. Running in all directions, the fleeing creatures were saved only by shaman fire-attacks raining down from the cliffs, a few lucky hits tearing holes in the closest ship. At least one disruptor cannon imploded and half of the ship vanished into another universe, leaving the rear parts hovering in the air.

Korg saw this from her balcony and found their weakness. The high levels of energy needed to activate the fearsome weapons made the disruptors good targets for a well-aimed fireball. For now, though, her priority was to eliminate the infantry. A few were moving towards the lower entrances to the caves, but seemed to hesitate.

After a brief conversation, one Forlorn began moving slowly and silently into the caves. Taking his lead, others began to follow. Each drew a sword that glowed brightly.

Inside the caves, Rockmage Krannan called a halt. As the only magically adept member of this unit, it was his duty to foresee danger and protect his fellows from it. Krannan had a high level of natural foresight that had saved many lives. His head began to swim as he saw several descending goblins and corpses of his comrades around him on the floor of the cave. Even after years of living with unbidden visions, Krannan had still not overcome the side-effects.

Returning to his surroundings, he saw that the squad had just entered a large, open cavern. It appeared to be conical with a small hole of daylight. The air was filled with the scent of gas lamps that had presumably been recently extinguished, for the cavern was pitch black except for a circle of light around the Forlorn raiding party.

With a horrible sense of foreboding, Krannan shaped a ball of light into existence and mentally guided it high into the air. He heard exclamations of shock from his fellows as the walls were revealed, every patch covered by a goblin trying hard not to make a sound.

It seemed that the goblins had been waiting for them to move further through the cave system before dropping down and cutting off their escape. Now that their plan had been rumbled, their plan reverted to the standard goblin strategy of piling on the enemy.

All of the Forlorn dropped into a crouch and pulled grenades from their belt. They pulled the pins simultaneously, each choosing a patch of wall to aim for in order to eliminate the most boggarts. At the same time, around half of the goblins dived down at the circle of light.

The only thing that saved the Forlorn from a quick defeat was goblin nature. At least two saw a shiny object flying towards them and chose to catch it. Just before the first goblins fell on the aliens, the grenades detonated and those holding onto them were torn apart. About a hundred goblins fell to the floor dead, some almost crushing their enemy. Even more were deafened and disorientated by the blasts and landed awkwardly, putting themselves out of the fight.

The Forlorn had expected the explosions and were ready, swords and pistols raised. Krannan was the only one unarmed, instead firing energy pulses from his fists that each took out several goblins. The twelve warriors withstood the attack for several minutes.

Finally, the relentless swarm of goblins began to weaken the Forlorn to the point where four had made crucial mistakes and had been torn apart. Krannan decided this was a fight they could not win. He formed a bubble around him and his seven companions and they began to run from the caves, taking shots at the pursuing goblins over their shoulders.

When they emerged into the blinding daylight, they found that the fleet were readying to leave. Krannan radioed the nearest cruiser, which dropped down to pick them up.

"Well fought, everyone. I shall report our defeat to General Goral myself."


End file.
